


just run away, little one

by crystallizedcherry



Series: Spabel Week 2016 [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: AU, Cardverse, Day 3: Royalty, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 15:27:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7538089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystallizedcherry/pseuds/crystallizedcherry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lovino, The Jack was not supposed to be like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	just run away, little one

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [season blowing like seraph's kiss](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4304013) by [crystallizedcherry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystallizedcherry/pseuds/crystallizedcherry). 



hetalia – axis powers © hidekazu himaruya  
_the author hereby claims that there was no profit gained in the making, written on entertaining purpose_.

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#

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**lovino vargas-carriedo.**

i.

A crumpled, orange-almost-brown leaf and its fragile venation looked like a weakened pattern of threads that would not see future any longer. If it was clothes then it would shatter had one came into contact with autumn wind. Like this.

And he realized;

he needed a new world.

Dull didn’t always come in grey.

ii.

A day, far away in the past, Antonio let Lovino join the caravan to the Hearts Kingdom. Spring had been so enchanting out there; and every time Lovino reminisced how red and pink and soft vermilion petals caressed his cheeks also his back of hands, he also needed to fight back the urge to leave this endless yellowish, withered rain of leaves behind his room.

That part of castle faced a small forest which was a nightmare at the moment, but there was no way to erase the scenery with throwing all of his oil paint on his canvases whenever they looked like a messy future he always scared of.

Every autumn leaf might be a piece of gold; but love was not made of golden dust.

.

iii.

And he dreamt of love.

Hearts. Pink dawn replacing vermilion twilight.

Probably metaphors were not the best solution; but for him, he was doing it eventually, reverberating it in the way that ended up triggering one spectacular thing he should not do—even think of it—ever in his life.

The rotten maple leaves were his twilight, and soon he had to embrace the dawn to settle under those pink petals of blooming hope.

.

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**antonio carriedo.**

i.

He kissed beads gleaming in peach on her wrist; and this Diamond Queen was a perfection herself. Nothing was left in his life wishes; though his fate was not written in golden ink shining like their sky—but he knew that an imperfect-but-devoting queen also a potential adopted-jack, he was sure that this was the best a king could get.

“Whisper my best name in your heart,” he almost placed his lips on her earlobe, but it was better for him, and the good news was that he realized that this was not their private room.

And The Queen curved a petite smile. “Autumn.”

Their noses were inches apart. His eyes on hers—sometimes on her sun-kissed cheeks and plump lips, his hands both on her shoulders. “But why?”

“Shining.” She traced his maxilla. “To know that you are the perfect analogy for the Kingdom you are reigning, that should make you happy.”

“When I am not, _Dearest Light-of-Autumn’s-Afternoon_ of mine?”

Not perfect; as their realm was the smallest one of all, but so far, better than dreams.

.

ii.

He had been walking on silk road; if we were to put his life in a year after chain of battle(s) against his neighbor, surrounding tribes over a dispute of wall he had erected three years ago, but everything seemed to be not-so-smooth anymore when he found an excessive mural on one of castle’s outer wall, of a green trees with pink shades on the ground and clear blue sky.

.

iii.

“Who did the painting?”

No one dared to step forward.

Except his own _Jack_.

“I did.”

He thought everyone was satisfied enough with the blessing peppered on them.

.

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**isabeau van de berg-carriedo.**

i.

She always loved how it felt to have his back before her. She was not a damsel in distress; she came to this realm with her own intention and not meant to be rescued from her not-fateful life in Summer, and she preferred to lift her own sword and her own armor—but his back told many other colorful stories but a protector for a weak.

His back was a symbolism that the future was there for her, and he was already put himself in it, proving to her that the uncertain time would not be that fearful since he was standing there firmly.

When she saw his back, didn’t care enough for what occassion, she would step forward and encircle her arms either on his waist or torso, embracing his body that always tough for any battle or public appearance, but felt so limp and he would, with no reluctancy, gave himself in for her, and her only.

Isabeau did it one night, while whispering that he should turn his head and kiss her forehead in this windy night. He did so without asking—only ended it up with ruffling her locks.

.

ii.

She did it on another night, but he did not turn.

“Our Jack is a rebel,” his trembling shoulders shuddered under her touch. “And I can’t believe it.”

 _Well, Lovino is a man-to-be_. But she kept her mouth shut; her lips were not meant to be another betrayer for him.

However, it was a lie to say that their Jack’s doing was out of her concern.

.

iii.

“He is soon a teenager, I know, I do understand!” finally, he yelled. Isabeau had predicted this but she was indeed shocked to see his anger that she had thought had been died months ago after the peace treaty had been signed regarding the Wall’s status.

“But I don’t know that he would betray me!”

She let him burst first, only to immerse him in the cold realization as if drowning him in freezing pond it even didn’t let the ashes of his burning anger come into existence,

“Antonio. I myself, the so-called love of your life, was once a **_rebel_**.”

.

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**antonio, lovino.**

i.

“My Queen was a princess in the Clubs. World of Summer.”

“And I see no connection of her story with mine.”

Antonio chuckled bitterly. “You shall see it. Now.”

.

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**lovino, isabeau.**

ii.

“Do you love Autumn?”

“You don’t ask whether it is my first love or not, Dear my-Lovi?”

“I’m not sure there’s something preceded your immense affection for this kingdom and the King itself ....”

“There was.” An ensuring smirk. “Summer.”

He was left agape.

“Go ahead. Find your way. A mother will be happy if her son follows her path.”

.

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**antonio, isabeau.**

iii.

They watched his first little adventure; his freedom, from afar.

They didn’t let a bird flying from free his cage.

They opened a gate for a warrior-in-training.

**Author's Note:**

> a/n: this is a ... kind of sequel for my old fic? season's blowing like a seraph's kiss, if you ever read it.


End file.
